Harping Sorrow

Sorrow is a dull and rusted harp,

no longer peeling with angelic laughter.

Tears dripping down into the chambers of your heart,

forever that harp,

stuck between the grief and pain.

 

Rusting away.

 

Trembling fingers so thin and fragile,

no longer play the melody of happiness.

Negative space, swelling with the once-lively sanctuary.

 

So carefully...

 

You venture to pluck a chord.

 

And a damp, flat note echoes off the walls bleeding with sorrow.

Reviews

[G. Anderson]

Thank you!

[Kaitlynn A. Black]

You certainly have captured the tone of the instrument within these woeful words. I can't say it's relatable for me, but it is wonderful expressed. =) Thank you for sharing your creativity!

Kate